


Just Go, I'll Be Here

by FantabulousAss



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cancer, Grief/Mourning, M/M, hey guys gals and nonbinary pals, junkrat is not okay, you ready for a Big Sad tm?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 01:57:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17437709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantabulousAss/pseuds/FantabulousAss
Summary: Roadhog has cancer, Junkrat does not take this well. This was written for my friend Dave, so shout out to that asshole.





	1. Chapter 1

Junkrat knew there was something wrong with Roadhog before Roadhog was even ready to accept it. He could tell in the way Roadhog’s cough was getting rougher and his wheezing lasted longer. He got tired faster and once, when he thought ‘Rat didn’t see, he coughed up blood, lifting his mask to spit it out.

Still he didn’t say anything. It had to hurt, he could tell by the way Hog’s breath shuddered after every coughing fit, but he didn’t say anything about it, until he couldn’t get his breath back at all. They’d been in the base, thankfully, so they got Roadhog to the infirmary. Seeing Hog like that, with his mask off, oxygen going into his ruined nostrils, seeing that, like he was weak… It made his stomach clench painfully.

Mercy didn’t look at Junkrat when she went in and almost didn’t when she left the room, and that’s how he knew it was serious. “Th’ fock’s wrong with him?” He asked as she turned down the hall.

She sighed heavily, and Junkrat noticed that her shoulders were rigid, as if she didn’t understand why she was the one who had to tell him. “It’s cancer. I told him months ago, but he refused treatment.”

_ Cancer? _ After everything, it was fucking  _ cancer _ ? A mutation? Fuck. Wait. “Refused treatment, what kinda shit is that?” He hated that his voice cracked and he stumbled forward as his peg leg lost a bit of traction on the linoleum.

“It was already advanced then. It’s a tumor cluster, all over his lungs and even into his trachea. He doesn’t have long. I’m sorry.” She turned again, then, whole body turning rigid, all business, as Junkrat just stared after her.

He looked into the room and saw Roadhog, Mako, without his mask again and felt a pain shoot through his chest. He looked peaceful, resting there, now that he could breathe a little easier.

Timidly, as if he didn’t want to cause another coughing fit, Jamie came into the room and drew himself back up to his full height, trying to look tougher than he felt. “A cluster of the li’l bastards, eh?”

Roadhog hmmed his agreement, not even opening his eyes.

“Doc says yer gonna die. ‘S ‘at true?”

“I s’pose.” Now that he was listening, and without the mask, he could hear how  _ rough _ Mako’s voice had gotten. It’d always been deep, always been rough, but not like this.

“Why?” As soon as the word blurted from his mouth, he wanted to take it back. He sounded like a brat asking their idiot parent about something impossible to explain.

“Cancer.” Mako opened an eye with a smirk to watch Jamison throw his little tantrum.

“ _ I know that _ , fuckin’ asshat! Why’d you-,”

“Because,” both eyes opened now, “I ain’t dyin’ here after months of chemo, gettin’ all…” He shook his head and glared at Jamie. “I won’t do it.”

“But you’d live longer!” Jamie countered, walking closer, waving his arms, anger replacing the pain for a bit. He took comfort in the burn of the anger, anything was better than that sharp, dragging ache.

“Maybe, but it wouldn’t be livin’. I’d never be the same. ‘Sides, Jamie, they would’ve had to operate and it might not’ve worked.” Mako turned his hand over, so his massive palm faced up, as if waiting for Jamie to put his hand there. “Plus, you’d be pissed if I died on the table.”

“Ya wouldn’t’ve died on the table! Yer too strong for that shit! Look at’cha!” Jamie turned and stared at the wall for a second, pouting.

“Jamison, look at me.” As if on cue, Mako coughed, not the hard ones he’d had earlier, but not exactly easy either.

Jamie looked, heart quickening and then wrenching at each heavy cough.

“I’m not a young man. Jus’ cos I can keep up with you most days don’t mean I’ll live forever, darl’.” He sounded tired, looked tired, too and Jamie walked over, then, feeling guilty that he’d even hesitated in holding Mako’s hand.

“I don’t want you t’ go, mate.” He mumbled, feeling Mako’s calluses rubbing against his own, hearing their gentle friction.

“Well, yer not rid of me  _ yet _ , so don’t look so fuckin’ sad. I’m just in here overnight. I ain’t lettin’ em keep me here all the time.” Mako turned their hands over and rubbed the back of Jamie’s hand. “Let the doc check you out too. Yer still young, might have more time.”

“Fuck, Hoggie, that’s morbid.”

He laughed, then. It was rough, and it almost sounded painful even before he started coughing, but it was strong and so painfully  _ Mako _ that Jamie just laughed along with him.

~

Roadhog, true to his word, didn’t stay in that bed more than a night, but ended up visiting it at least once a week for a few hours of oxygen and pain medication. Those nights sucked, but the way Mako slept, easily, and without those awful coughing fits, made it worth it.

He almost forgot just how sick Mako was, until the others wanted him to go to a disaster zone, and keep the rest of the team safe while they evacuated civilians. He knew fire and explosions better than anyone else, it made sense to have him along, but he wouldn’t go. He couldn’t. Mercy had said Roadie could go at any time. He couldn’t leave him, but of course, like the fucking cliche he was, Mako told him to go. They needed him, blah blah blah. Fockin’  _ drongo _ thought he was slick?

“Nah, mate. Can’t do it. Yer sick, I can’t leave ya.” His voice was monotone, cool as a refrigerated cucumber, not a care in the bleedin’ world.

“Jamie, I’m not gonna die just cos yer gone. Just go. Calm yer shit down. I’ll have the doc call ya if somethin’ happens.” Mako’s voice was amused, but commanding. “Now, c’mere and gimme a kiss.”

Unsure, but ultimately listening to Mako, Jamie went with the crew after giving Mako a thorough goodbye, though he would’ve rather run back to their base himself than sat in that fuckin’ tin can. The mission was fine. They didn’t really need him. Despite the fact that he hadn’t gotten a call, he felt dread mounting in his chest and grabbing his Adam’s apple.

When he saw Mako lying peacefully in their bed, he panicked before a loud snore ripped through the room. He giggled and tossed his harness to one side of the room and snuggled under Mako’s heavy arm, wrapping his long, skinny arm around his side.

When he woke up, he knew there was something wrong. There was no rumbling snore, no wheezing breath, no thousand degree heat warming him up, nothing. As Junkrat struggled to get out of Roadhog’s unmoving grasp, he felt his throat tighten, and his heart race and  _ no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, nononononononononononononononono! _

He didn’t realize he was screaming until someone ripped the door open and drew him close.  _ When had he finally gotten away from Mako? _ He could hardly feel his throat ripping to shreds. He didn’t feel himself wriggling to get back to Mako. All he could see was Mako’s face, peaceful. Not beautiful, never beautiful, but peaceful and easy, for the first time in a long time. All he could hear was his own blood rushing through his body. All he could feel were a million stinging hands, keeping him back, keeping him away from Mako, keeping him away from the body of his love, his life, his world.

He didn’t know how long he struggled, or screamed. He couldn’t remember taking a single breath. All he knew was that one moment he was fighting like a caged animal, the next, he was waking up in the same bed Roadhog had lain in that first afternoon.

Mercy was sitting there, looking tired as he came to. “What do you remember?” She asked, glancing up at his IV. Sedative, probably.

“‘E’s gone.” He rasped, hand shooting up to his throat, surprised at the rawness of it.

“ _ Ja _ ,” She sighed, leaning back in the chair. “You were screaming.”

_ Yeah, I can fockin’ feel that, sheila. _ He thought, ripping his eyes from her to stare at the ceiling. “Where…”

“We weren’t sure what his wishes were... he’s downstairs.” She seemed hesitant to tell him even that, especially as he started to get up. “Rest now, Jamison. There’ll be time for that later.”


	2. They Don't Understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming to terms with things has never been Junkrat's strong suit. He tries healing, but nothing he wants to try is working.

In the end, Mako hadn’t told anyone what he wanted, so they cremated him and gave Junkrat the ashes. As if trying to comfort him, they told him that Mako had earned a place on some wall or whatever.

If he’d thought the base had been boring before, it was worse after Mako was gone. It was so quiet, no matter who tried to get through to him, and they really did. He couldn’t fault them for that.

That ache was back, now dull and deep instead of sharp, and nothing he did alleviated it. He was a liability in the field, he knew that was why they didn’t send him out anymore, no matter how badly he wanted a reason to run from that too-empty base. Maybe they were just letting him heal, but somehow, he didn’t think he ever would.

Every touch stung, because it wasn’t Mako’s, and it never would be again. Every sound grated against his nerves, because it would never be Mako’s laugh, never be his wheezing breaths behind him, never be his thudding footsteps or his deep voice. He’d never hear him say “ _ I love you _ ” again. He’d never shit-talk with him, never call him an idiot or ruffle his hair or just  _ smile _ at him. And to think, there was a time when Jamie took Mako’s snores for granted. He’d kill to get woken up one more time by a  _ real _ Mako snore, even though it’d irritated him before.

Showers became an escape for a while, because he could pretend the heat from the shower was Mako’s warm breath. He could pretend the steam he breathed in was Mako. He could use Mako’s shampoo and soap, and he could smell like him until the scent faded.  _ If Mako were alive, he’d have a fockin’ heart attack at how clean I am. _

_ “If I’d known that was what it took to get you to bathe more often, I’d’ve died before now.” _

_ “Fuck you, no you wouldn’t.” _

That’s what they’d say. They’d laugh, and Jamie would kiss him and just for a little while longer it’d be okay.

Working on bombs helped. The meticulousness they required made him focus on something, anything, other than the fact that the room was so fucking quiet, even with music playing. He couldn’t listen to Mako’s favorites, knowing he’d never heard the quiet whisper of Mako pretending not to sing along.

Once, on his way to the kitchen, he stumbled outside and got angry at the sun, angry that it continued shining, so gentle even though Mako wouldn’t get to bask in it and talk about how nice it felt to have a gentle heat warm your shoulders instead of the death ray that shone over the Wastes. He threw a bomb up, trying to hit the sun, but hitting an outcropping of rocks instead. The explosion, the sight of the chunks of rock falling around him, some even hitting him, made his heart that little bit lighter.

So, he found what made it better. The same thing that’d always made things better, some sweet, sweet explosions, some delicious chaos. The explosions that started making craters around their base felt nice when he touched them, still warm.

“Junkrat.” He swung around to see the Soldier, Jack. “You can’t keep doing this around base.”

His tone was gentle, but awkward, as if he didn’t know what to say, other than the fact that Jamie had to stop.

“Yer not gonna stop me. Y’ can’t.”

“Didn’t say I was going to. You just can’t do this here. This  _ is _ a secret base. People are going to talk.” Junkrat didn’t like his mask. It was cold. It was a  _ soldier’s _ mask. It was almost right, but it just made him angry.

“I don’t give a fuck. Let’em talk. I’ll blow ‘em all away. Fuckin’, let Talon fuckin’ come, or whoever the fuck. I fockin’  _ dare _ ‘em to mess with me now.” He let out an unhinged giggle, and let another bomb fly.

“Jamison, please.”

“ _ Jamison, please _ .” He mocked, glaring at Soldier. “I’ll stop when I’m fuckin’ ready. I’ll  _ stop  _ when it’s enough.”

He heard the soldier sigh, and he almost felt bad. “Look, kid. We’ve all lost someone-,”

“No. Don’t fuckin’ start with that! You have no right!” Jamison screeched, stepping back unsteadily. “No! Fuck you. Fuck you!”

He could practically see the soldier holding himself back. “Fine.” He growled instead of saying what he wanted to.

Junkrat almost begged for it, almost begged for the screaming. He wanted the screaming. He ached for some kind of release. But no, the soldier walked away, leaving Jamie to himself.

~

It was a week later when they tried again. He’d stopped dropping bombs outside. It didn’t bring the same kind of excitement anymore. Now, he lobbed them at their training dummies, laughing as he blew them to sad little chunks.

Apparently, though, he couldn’t do that either, since Lucio came to talk to him next. “Hey, dude.”

They’d been starting to get friendly before everything, but now, their friendship was strained. He was so casual about it, though, that Junkrat bit the bait. “Uh huh?”

“While we support you through this, and y’know, we’re here for you, we need you to not break everything.” Lucio had at least a little bit of tact, but even still, Jamison prickled.

“Yeah? Well, you know what I need? I need Roadie back. I  _ need _ him to tell me himself. If y’ can do that, then I’ll stop. If not, throw me out.”

To his credit, Lucio didn’t flinch. He hardly reacted. “We understand, man. You gotta know we do.”

“No. You don’t.” He didn’t even bother to look at Lucio. “Y’ don’t know what Oz was like. Y’ don’t know us. Ya  _ never _ knew Hog. Don’t pretend like y’do.”

~

His last straw, though, was Angela herself. “He wouldn’t want you to be like this.” She said, after catching him sleeping in the training hall.

Her tone was so pitying it felt condescending. He was sure she was just trying to help, but the way she said it, the way she was so sure… as if she knew Mako in a way Jamie didn’t was downright insulting, and he refused to add insult to injury.

“You didn’t fockin’  _ know him _ ! Don’t act like you knew him! You knew his name, his weight, his outside and his insides, but you didn’t know who he  _ was _ , you didn’t know him at all! You might’ve talked with him, laughed with him, but you didn’t  _ know _ him. None’a ya did! Stop acting like ya do!” He yelled, towering over her shamelessly. She didn’t shrink away, but she stepped back.

“Jamison, we know you knew him best. But he  _ did _ converse with some of us. We knew parts of him. We miss him too.” And that, that right there, was too much for Junkrat. He growled and walked out of that room as fast as he could.

_ How fuckin’ dare they? How dare they act like they miss him? How dare they act like that when they just don’t want me to leave a fuckin’ nuke behind? Who gave them the right?! _

His heart ached as he saw their empty room. He scooped up some things, mostly Roadhog’s, and prepared to leave, shoving things in a backpack, putting the well-worn mask and meathook up top. That mask hurt to look at. Every time he looked into the eyes, he imagined Mako’s little brown eyes lookin’ back at him. He didn’t know if it helped or hurt.

Nobody stopped him, not that he’d let them. He knew where Roadhog’s bike was kept. He knew how to ride the massive thing. He almost left the sidecar behind, knowing he wouldn’t need it, but thought better of it and put his backpack in it and shook his shoulders, not realizing how heavy the pack was until it was off him. He regretted letting Mako take it so many times.

Junkrat ran, that night. Nobody stopped him. He knew they’d report him, but he couldn’t care less. He was gone, free, flying down the road.

They’d never tell him they understood again. They couldn’t lie anymore.


	3. The Last Descent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's over, in more ways than one.

Two weeks. That was his freedom. Two weeks of running the way they used to, sleeping behind dumpsters and fighting rats for scraps from the dumpster.

It was two weeks before he dropped an honest to goodness, _proper_ bomb on some kinda bank building. Watching that shit? Feeling the way it blasted warmth over him? It was unlike anything else. It felt _good_ , felt _real_.

Unfortunately, the city decided it felt _too_ real, and they sent cops after him.

After two days of hiding, he finally gave up. Without Roadhog, without his irritation, his direction, his expertise on avoiding police, running just… wasn’t any fun anymore. Of course, turning himself in wasn’t any fun either.

He wasn’t surprised when the Overwatch crew didn’t show up. Part of him had hoped at least one of them would, but he understood. With his previous record, he was offered a deal for the whereabouts of his old partner.

They looked horrified when he laughed and said he was dead. “Cancer!” He laughed, each loud burst of noise completely lacking of any kind of mirth. “After all them blokes shootin’ at us, me blowin’ us up, him bein’ so close to the fockin’ Omnium when that fucker blew… And a _fucking mutation_ killed ‘im. His own _body._ ”

The didn’t say anything, just wrote down a single word. Jamison didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know it said, “Deceased”. What were they gonna do? Run a story about his Mako in the news? Oh he hoped so. He hoped the fuckin’ Queen saw it. Then she’d know, she’d know all her precious fuckin’ guards and her fuckin’ _subjects_ would die of cancer. Then he’d laugh. He’d laugh for hours, just thinking about her stupid fucking face. She’d regret bouncin’ them now, he knew. But he just laughed. He laughed and laughed, not realizing he was crying until they had him processed and in his cell.

Nobody would come for him, he knew. If they hadn’t been at his hearing, they wouldn’t bring him back to base. That was just fine with him. He didn’t want to see any of them anyway. He didn’t want to go back to _those_ white walls.

This set of white walls had a strip of black paint going around it. Some _style_ . He noticed now, that the floor was padded. The strip of paint wasn’t paint. It was cloth. The whole room was padded. How _nice_ , finally, something _different_ than prison gray. It was about fuckin’ time someone changed this shit up.

Suddenly, he had a lot of time to himself. He lost himself in memories, remembered Roadhog for who he was, maybe exaggerated a little.

He talked a lot, even though there was no one to talk to. He just talked and talked, gushing about Mako, missing him every time he said his name, aching for that heavy hand. He wished he had his ashes. Anything would be better than the nothing he was making do with.

Jamie remembered fondly, the last time he’d been in a prison. Roadie had been kept in solitary. They didn’t trust him. Somehow, they’d trusted Junkrat with chemicals. _Chemicals_! It was a small explosive, but it was all he needed to get out of the common area and find Mako. Busting him out was just as easy. “Took ya long enough,” He’d remarked, happy for the mask he slipped over his face.

“Had to wait for them to give me cleaning supplies. Idiots thought I couldn’t make something fun with bleach.” Roadhog had laughed at that.

That was comforting right there. Remembering the sound of Roadhog laughing. Remembering the way it felt when he managed to squeeze a laugh out of him after some tense circumstances. How it felt to feel Mako’s body rumble as he slept.

He cried a lot, for a long time. The world finally had what it wanted. A little bit more peace.

That thought? That one, the thought that he was unimportant anymore, that hurt.

But hey. The world had what it wanted, and in a way, he was happy to oblige. How nice must it be to have a mind made of mush, a mind so dull it remembered nothing, he wondered.

Maybe it wouldn’t work, but if it did, if he couldn’t remember the ache in his chest and the fatigue in his motions, maybe it’d be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for any comments!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry if any of this was inaccurate, especially medical terms or procedures. If you think something needs adding, please leave a comment! Thank you for reading!


End file.
